Chapter 101: Hanoi

Liu Yu pondered over the letter, taking some time before raising his head to ask Su Sui, “How many French troops are still in Hanoi now?”
Although the Xiliu Camp had its own independent intelligence sources, the quality of information about the French forces in Hanoi was far inferior to that of the Huajian Sect. This was because the Huajian Sect had recruited many Catholic traitors, among whose informants were even several Western missionaries in Hanoi.
Su Sui lowered her head slightly and said, “After Li Weiyeh launched his attack, there are about 240 French troops and 100 native infantry. However, there are also over a hundred foreign missionary groups and several hundred armed believers inside the city.”
Liu Yu asked the crucial question, “How many reinforcements are estimated?”
“About a shipload of French troops, reportedly half a company, sent by Major General Mei from Haiphong.”
Liu Yu confirmed the information he had received. Before any reinforcements arrived, Hanoi had roughly three and a half companies of troops, including the native infantry. As for Li Weiyeh’s forces, they had been almost completely annihilated; those who escaped numbered no more than a company, including some wounded soldiers.
Including the Catholic missionary groups and the upcoming reinforcements, Hanoi had at most 500 defenders plus some poorly combat-effective Catholics. Their side still had a superiority of over 4,000 troops, giving them a great chance of victory.
Yet he was well aware that the real key to victory or defeat lay not in Hanoi but thousands of miles away. No matter what unexpected events arose, he would still carry out the planned action.
“Order! Company 2 of the Xiliu Camp, Company 3 of the Crow Camp, and Company 3 of the Hanhai Camp shall be directly under the regimental headquarters starting today and become part of the main reserve force.”
Liu Yu turned around and ordered his officers, “Liu Suiyun!”
Liu Suiyun stepped forward, and Liu Yu commanded, “You will temporarily serve as the leader of the main reserve force.”
Seeing Liu Suiyun’s youthful and energetic demeanor, everyone felt that he would become the second commander.
It should be noted that these three companies were the oldest in each infantry battalion and had remained largely intact during the Battle of Paper Bridge. Such an independent detachment composed of these three infantry companies could rival the Crow Camp, only slightly inferior to the Xiliu Camp.
Liu Suiyun himself saluted Liu Yu proudly, already aware of his mission: “I will definitely complete the task.”
At the highest levels of the Xiliu Infantry Regiment, only a few people knew about this wildly bold plan. Everyone, including Liu Yu himself who devised it, believed this mission was the most difficult task the Xiliu Camp had ever faced—a mission destined to fail.
After thoroughly studying the terrain, Liu Suiyun realized even more clearly that only the strongest troops, the best weapons, perfect preparation, and a capable commander, combined with a bit of luck, could accomplish such a daunting task.
He even understood the expectations behind Liu Yu’s orders!
The siege of Hanoi was a critical battle, but Liu Yu had drawn out these three highly combat-effective companies to preserve the strength of this independent detachment as much as possible, preparing for the next arduous task.

His shoulders would bear a heavy burden—the fate of the entire Xiliu Camp rested on them. Facing the scorching sun, he had only one thought in mind: “I must complete this arduous mission!”
The same sun inspired different thoughts in different people.
As the commander of the remaining troops, Captain Bisselle said to the crowd that had come to greet them, “They’re all here!”
Before him lay an overwhelming amount of supplies. Catholic missionaries had mobilized hundreds of believers to prepare everything for this campaign against the barbarian pagans.
But now even the Catholic missionaries’ expressions had changed—it was a defeat.
The Li Weiyeh expedition force before them consisted of only fifty or sixty officers and soldiers left. After just a few hours of fighting, it was impossible to tell who was an officer and who was a soldier; one had to get up close to distinguish between local soldiers and indigenous troops.
Just a few hours earlier, they had been the invincible Li Weiyeh expedition force, marching in perfect formation as the strongest army in entire Tonkin. But now, not even one-tenth of them had returned.
Among those fifty or sixty people were many severely injured soldiers who couldn’t fight on their own. It was clear that the French still had many heroic soldiers in this battle—they hadn’t abandoned their comrades. But everyone understood that the glory of the Li Weiyeh expedition force belonged to the past.
They were soldiers who had returned from hell. One missionary blurted out, “You seem to have come back from hell…”
Indeed, aside from their rifles, they had abandoned everything—artillery, supplies, boots, and even many of their life-saving rifles were left on the battlefield. They were covered in blood and dust.
As the commander of the remaining troops, Captain Bisselle agreed with him. He glanced at the astonished crowd and said, “That’s right! We are soldiers who have fought our way back from hell.”
No one could understand how Li Weiyeh had failed. He had led eight hundred soldiers, including four hundred fifty French soldiers, and was equipped with three of the best steel cannons in the world. Yet he failed—completely failed. The commander of the remaining troops said they had returned from hell, a fact even the French troops left behind couldn’t comprehend. They were shocked beyond measure.
How could a group of barbarians from the Chinese border, a group of pagans with primitive firearms, defeat the mighty Li Weiyeh expedition force? A French lieutenant couldn’t help asking, “Was that really hell?”
Captain Bisselle answered his question, “In that true hell, there are still things that shine. We underestimated these barbarian pagans. Colonel Li Weiyeh’s failure is just like the Roman Empire’s defeat in the Teutoburg Forest!”
The Teutoburg Forest was one of the most famous defeats in Western history. The Germans annihilated three Roman legions led by Valerius in the Black Forest. When Augustus heard of this defeat, he tore his robes in pain, smashed his head against the wall, and cried out repeatedly, “Valerius, give me my legions back!”
As an officer who had returned from hell, Captain Bisselle knew his responsibility clearly: “From now on, I am the highest commander in Hanoi.”

France’s romantic traditions were no longer suitable for the battlefield; what was needed now was Napoleon. He ordered loudly, “Impose military control over Hanoi from this moment onward—everyone must obey my orders!”
No one objected to his orders. They were still reeling from Li Weiye’s astonishing defeat. This defeat of the French was truly akin to the Roman Empire losing three legions in the Teutoburg Forest.
What concerned them even more was the situation in Hanoi. With the small number of French troops that had withdrawn, there were now fewer than three hundred pure local soldiers in Hanoi. Adding in the indigenous infantry and Catholic militias, the total was barely five hundred.
Just how powerful were the barbarian forces that had defeated Li Weiye? No—annihilated them!
Wait, it was a barbarian force that annihilated a powerful French expedition force within an hour. Everyone thought of one word: “Yellow Peril!”
“Sir Bissel, how many enemies do we have?”
In another timeline, Li Weiye attacked three battalions of the Black Flag Army, numbering 1,600 men, with only four or five hundred men and was defeated. Later, the French reported that there were about 15,000 Black Flag Army soldiers facing him. In this timeline, Captain Bissel had unconsciously inflated the number of Black Flag Army soldiers, and his report to Major General Mei only added fuel to the fire.
“Dear Major General Mei, commander of the China Sea and Japan Sea Fleets: I must bring you some bad news. We have suffered one of the greatest defeats in our colonial history. Colonel Li Weiye, Major Wei, and many officers have been killed. The expedition force marching toward Shanxi has been severely damaged, and the entire force has been destroyed.”
“As an officer who witnessed this battle, I feel obligated to report the details of this battle to you…”
“…Commander Li Weiye launched an attack with his vanguard, but it soon became clear that the enemy forces ahead were three elite infantry brigades of the Black Flag Army, numbering about 15,000 men. They were equipped with fifty machine guns, thousands of rapid-fire rifles, and many German-made breech-loading cannons. As a result, the vanguard suffered heavy casualties. Commander Li Weiye was forced to bring in his main forces into battle and ordered all artillery to cross the river, after which the battle began to make progress…”
Captain Bissel quickly wrote down the rest of the battle account: “At this critical moment, three elite infantry divisions of the Black Flag Army appeared from the direction of Bani Temple, bringing the total force to around 25,000 men. They were equipped with many European-style cannons. According to witnesses, they had at least 100 advanced breech-loading cannons. As a result, Captain Marol led 50 French soldiers and several indigenous infantrymen to hold Bani Temple for an hour, covering the retreat of the troops…”
“Under the siege of 40,000 to 50,000 enemy soldiers equipped with advanced weapons, my Li Weiye expedition force held out for another four hours, inflicting 5,000 to 6,000 casualties on the enemy. Eventually, most of us died due to running out of ammunition…”
“Therefore, I urgently request that Major General Mei send all the troops at your disposal to provide support. If infantry cannot be sent, I hope you can have the extra sailors come ashore to fight. If infantry cannot be sent, river gunboats can be sent instead…”
Bissel quickly finished drafting the rescue telegram and signaled that it should be sent to Haifang immediately. At that moment, cheers suddenly came from outside. An officer shouted, “Captain! Reinforcements are here!”

Captain Bissell still hadn’t changed his clothes; he was still that demon returned from hell, covered in blood. Hearing these words, he felt profound exhaustion: “Reinforcements are here! Long live France!” But when he stepped onto the riverbank, he said again, “This isn’t enough! It’s far from enough!” The reinforcements were Major General Mei, commander of the Chinese Sea Fleet. He and Li Weiyeh were both fleet commanders, but Mei held a higher rank, and his responsibility covered the entire Chinese Sea and Sea of Japan—more critical than the desolate coasts of Cochinchina. Before this sortie, Li Weiyeh had sent requests for help to Major General Mei stationed in Haiphong and Governor Qin Chong in Saigon. Now Mei had sent reinforcements—sixty-five naval soldiers. It should be noted that he had already sent three landing companies to Hanoi; to assemble these three companies, he even pulled sailors from many minor positions on ironclads and cruisers. These sixty-five naval soldiers were already the maximum he could muster under normal circumstances. But Captain Bissell knew full well that this was far from enough—sixty-five naval soldiers alone were not sufficient to defend Hanoi. He rushed onto the transport ship almost immediately and said to the captain, who had a similar rank to his, “Captain, I need reinforcements!” “Sir! I’ve already brought reinforcements!” “No! You don’t realize how dire the situation is!” No further explanation was needed—Bissell’s hellish appearance made it clear just how bad things were in Hanoi: “We’ve lost Colonel Li Weiyeh, Captain Wei, Captain Maroll… and many brave soldiers!” As he spoke, the naval captain could hardly speak from anguish and sat down, crying: “I need reinforcements!” The captain looked at him with sympathy. He knew Captain Bissell well—he was an excellent commander. “Captain, I’ll do my best to provide support.” “You can take down a 65-mm gun from the ship, and I can assign fifteen good men from the crew to you. That’s the limit; if I take one more man, I won’t be able to operate the ship. I hope you can take them home.” “They’ll join your forces with their weapons, along with the rifles for the crew’s self-defense. That’s all I can do.” “Thank you!” “Sir… I’m also a naval officer. If I can return from Haiphong, please give me a rifle too.” With eighty more naval soldiers and some extra rifles, Bissell showed no sign of relief. Gunfire from the paper bridge had ceased, and a few scattered soldiers were returning from the battlefield, taken in by a rear guard unit stationed at the front. But the captain knew it was impossible to take in too many retreatees. Having witnessed the entire defeat of the special forces himself, all he needed was to strengthen the defenses of Hanoi as quickly as possible. If everything went well, the Black Flag Army would launch an attack tonight at the earliest, or no later than tomorrow. Right now, his only reliable forces numbered less than four hundred French soldiers, some of whom were seriously injured and could die at any moment, while others would never be able to fight again.

As for the rest of the troops, whether it was the Catholic militia or the indigenous infantry, they would collapse first before the French completely fell, but at this moment, he could only rely on every soldier loyal to France.
He glanced at the time—it was 12:43 p.m.
May 19th, 1883.
He had only a few hours to carry out the most difficult siege battle in French history.
His face, covered in blood and dust, suddenly broke into a smile. Looking at the concession protected by several fortifications, he drew his revolver: “Soldiers, follow me and become generals!”